Tripping in Love
by NaMa6
Summary: Robert Lightwood x Michael Wayland. Michael Wayland had many quirks. Robert Lightwood, his parabatai, knew them all. After years and years of examining the male he had called his best friend, his brother in arms, his parabatai, he had narrowed them down to a short list that encompassed them all...


Tripping In Love

Michael Wayland had many quirks. Robert Lightwood, his parabatai, knew them all. After years and years of examining the male he had called his best friend, his brother in arms, his parabatai, he had narrowed them down to a short list that encompassed them all.

Michael could sleep anywhere

Michael didn't really like to read and he could stare at the same page for hours

Michael got a nervous twitch whenever someone mentioned homosexuality (Robert couldn't really explain this one, but it was definitely there)

Michael could sleep _anywhere_

Michael was very picky about his food, but didn't want to be rude, and he ate everything anyway, so you could never really tell what he liked (Robert knew, of course, but that was beside the point)

Michael's favorite thing was to go for a walk and let his feet take him where he wanted (which often got him lost and made Robert come and find him)

_Michael Wayland could sleep anywhere_

It was this last one that gave Robert many a head ache.

Night or day, rain or shine, standing or sitting, demon about to eat your face off or not; Michael would sleep anywhere. Nothing could stop him from catching up on lost sleep, or just sleeping for the sake of it.

Robert could recall a time when Michael had been staring at the same page of a book for an hour while Robert flipped through the Codex, trying to find information on a particular demon that had been giving them troubles on the edges of Idris. One moment, Michael was leaning on the wall, studying a very intriguing book about "Poisonous plants and their uses in modern potions". The next, he was snoring away, still completely balanced against the wall. Robert had tried to wake him up to no avail. He even pushed him over. Nothing would work.

It was only until he got frustrated enough that he leaned by Michael's ear and sighed, "Michael…" His voice was barely a whisper, more like a fleeting breeze, yet Michael's eyes popped open as if they were never closed. He had smiled and simply said, "Robert."

Robert had turned a magnificent shade of red and moved away from Michael, huffing. I mean, how embarrassing is that? Is that the only way to wake him up? Whisper in his ear like a lover would? What the heck?

While it was embarrassing, Robert had to deal with it. He did what he had to, no matter how humiliating. He was just glad Michael kept from falling asleep in too public of a place. He didn't want people misunderstanding the exchange.

Of course, not all encounters with a sleepy Michael Wayland went well. There was one time that Robert Lightwood, with all his self-restraint and seriousness, would never forget or get over…

It was a crisp day in early November, and schools were out on holiday. Robert had been invited to stay with his parabatai's family in their mansion in Brocelind Forest, and he had been enjoying himself immensely. The manor house was pleasant enough, but also comfortable as he'd get out, plus it also helped that he was near his best friend, Michael.

Robert had been enjoying the fresh air out in the yard for a few moments of peace before going back inside to begin lunch. He had left Michael in the living room, staring at the pages of a cook book, his eyebrows knitted together in frustration, mumbling to himself. Yet, when he walked back in to the living room… Michael was gone.

Robert blinked. He couldn't have been gone for more than five minutes, and still, Michael had managed to disappear. The book he had been reading lay on the arm of the couch and Robert picked it up deftly, heading to the kitchen anyway. _He'll be back when he's hungry_, he thought.

Suddenly, his foot got caught on something solid and he toppled, throwing his arms out to catch himself. Sadly, that didn't work out so well, considering he was holding a book that slid on the wood of the floor. His right hand slipped right out from under him and placed him mere inches from his parabatai's face.

Robert gulped, his body suddenly very hot at the close contact. "Michael…" he whispered, forgetting for a moment that that was the only thing that woke him up. This was the exact opposite of what he wanted.

Michael opened his eyes and grinned sleepily. "Attacking someone in their sleep, Rob? I wouldn't have thought it of you," he said, a drowsy lilt to his voice.

"I-I wasn't- I didn't mean to-!" Robert stammered, suddenly _very_ aware of how close they actually were. Their chests were pressed together, Robert's knees on either side of Michael's thighs, and his forearms on the floor on either side of Michael's head. His head was swimming with their bodily contact, so much so, that he barely even noticed when Michael flipped their positions. Robert was now looking up in to Michael's face, seeing the red blossoming on his parabatai's face.

Suddenly, number 3 made sense to Robert.

A conversation he had had with Michael sprang up. Robert had been talking about a classmate at school who had made it known he was gay. He had said it gave him chills, that it was so unexpected, and that what could have made him _choose_ that? Michael had been twitching since the beginning, his lips tight and eyebrows furrowed. He had been silent, just nodding and giving awkward smiles of agreement, but no solid words.

Michael didn't twitch because he didn't like the subject.

Michael twitched because he was gay and he was afraid Robert wouldn't accept him.

"Oh, Michael," Robert sighed, a hand floating up to cover his mouth as the truth crashed down on him.

"You hate me, don't you?" Michael asked, his eyes glittering with tears. Robert stared; in all his years, he had never seen Michael cry. "You have _the chills_? "

"Michael, I could never-," Robert began, but suddenly, his hand was forced away from his mouth, and Michael's face was closer, and something warm was pressed against his lips, and he couldn't even think.

"I love you, Robert, Michael whispered against Robert's lips.

"I love you, too," Robert said, realizing as he spoke the words that they were true. He loved Michael Wayland.

Michael pulled back in surprise. "You do? Truly?"

Robert nodded. "Honestly. I love you, Michael."

Robert wrapped his arms around Michael's neck, pulling him close and initiating the kiss, which Michael happily returned. Fingers tangling in Michael's hair, Robert felt as though his world was catching fire. It was all Michael's fault. It was the best thing he had ever felt in his life. Michael's hands ran down his chest to his hips, tugging the hem of his shirt up, touching the muscled body below.

"Michael-!" Robert groaned, but he was cut off by the sound of the front door opening.

"Michael!" called Michael's father.

"Robbie! We came to visit!" came the sound of Robert's mother's voice.

They scrambled to make themselves presentable. Robert pulled his shirt down as Michael made his hair a little less messy.

Four people walked in, followed by a fifth; Michael's parents, Robert's parents, and a girl about the same age as the two boys. She had long black hair and beetle black eyes. She smiled as she saw Robert, completely ignoring Michael.

"Hi," she said. "My name is Maryse Trueblood."


End file.
